…mind talks…

writing

Gazing blankly into the ghostly sky with its morning star hidden right behind the thick, heavy clouds, I downed my cup of espresso. I tried to shut my thoughts and listen to the sounds around me. I sat still in my wooden chair trying to capture some form of hope for my trusty pen to thrust its wildest dreams on.

If I could, I would. Definitely. I would part this sheet of paper from the book, roll it up, and then put it in a bottle – and set it free. Well, what if I actually did?

My thoughts would have the freedom to linger off through the water surface, forever encased in its protective covering. Hopefully it would seek refuge from raging storms, and finally meet with amicable weather in the Atlantic, before sailing smoothly into the Indian Ocean. Perhaps, thousands of years later someone would be lucky enough to stumble upon it when it gets itself stuck in the soggy sand.

Parts of the lines are quite cheesy, and I do have to apologize, Taylor Swift and Justin Bieber, for borrowing the words in your lyrics to vent my dissatisfaction.

Thank you for calling me a bitch. Thank you for assumming that I am a slut. Thank you for piercing through my heart all your sharp arrows, of setting my soul to flames. Thank you for calling me stupid, and whatever other names you felt befitting. I have never once been that, and I shall show you that I mean it.

The players are going to play, play, play. The haters, on the other hand, they are just going to hate, hate, hate. What can I possibly do about that anyway. I sort of knew you were trouble when you walked in to my life, so maybe shame on me now? Hmmm. All too often I was just left in blank space, baby; because all boys only want love if it’s torture, if it’s pain, if it’s hurt, and if blood oozes out from their hearts. What do you really, really mean? You were, in the end, the reason for the teardrops on my guitar (well, ok; it was really your guitar, but I held it with my dainty fingers sometimes). Finally, your friends talked to my friends talked to your friends talked to me, and so we are never ever getting back together. Not like I actually cared even. I only have to shake it all off my head. Yeah. Loving you was so red, in fact forgetting you was like trying to know someone I never met.

Nevertheless, from the ashes rose a phoenix with wings so large they carried it away from the consuming fire. I started showing gratitude and showering my appreciation on people, sometimes even people I do not even know who helped me in doing something. I allowed myself to be as genuine as possible in dealing with the different kinds of people I have to meet everyday. These things cannot go wrong. As a result, I am proud of myself for having grown emotionally stronger and bolder than before. It could be that my feelings have been numbed from the constant hurt, but my chains have been broken, and my soul has been set free. I hope.

A few more months – just one more semester – I will be graduating!!!! (I do wish I could insert a love icon here.) I shall be done with my degree after a long, long time. I should be so excited right? Yes I am, but no, I am also not. Oh gosh, my mind is wandering to so many places! Life is an exciting venture, a beautiful journey bestowed upon Man. There is no other gift more amazing than the gift of life.

This year also I am chasing time to kick off my positive psychology start-up as well. While I am working on one SBU (strategic business unit, that is) now, I will directly after I graduate, start-up the other SBU. Currently I am looking for sponsors and venues for investors. It has been a crazy six months running about to widen social networks and contact suppliers, and so on, whilst studying final year. I still have not mentioned that I am also doing sales. Haha. Crazy times.

I have of course had my fair share of repeating heartbreaks, but yet I did all I could to keep pushing on and on. Whether it has got to be love, wealth, fame, or self-fulfillment, I wanted it to work out this year. I probably went a wee bit overboard, pushing myself dangerously over the edge. But I had already decided from early this year that I am not going to let things happen to me just like that. I am going to make things happen to me instead.

So I just want you to know: I am fiercely fighting for whatever that is meant to be mine – my degree, my start-up, and HIM!!!!!

Never say never. All I need to do is be patient. Perseverant. Positive!!!! The 3Ps!!! Oooh – how sweet.

November rains are back. Everyday it is raining, raining, raining. The skies are crying, weeping tears of bittersweet joy. Massive clouds of whitish-grey matter cover the sky, creating a reflecting gloom that shrouds the earth. Some twists must be taken, must they not?

Even the air is set with a dewy mist. Winds blow, though not too hard. The ground is moist; in some places it is damp and soggy from all the wetness.

The wisps of mists fill the air as it evaporates, awakening the senses – perhaps with a start – and the soul, with a renewed vigor, skips along the sidewalks in merriment. For through pain, through jagged maps, through persistence it came through it all, and is still coming, on its way. One day soon it shall be no less obvious, because its dear heart would thump with powerful beats along to the tune of the music whispering in its ears.

November is a beautiful month, the time of the year when Mars and Pluto cross paths and stars collide. It is the time of the year of every other year when little baby scorpions emerge from their eggs and take their very first crawl.

Oh! The clock is ticking, and I am running out of time. I must put on my birthday suit. For in a few minutes I am turning 24. How old can I be?

I am in oh-so-deeeeep love with the month of November.

Red Scarlet

PS: This post was written a few days prior to the author’s 24th birthday.

In the midst of the gooey mass of grey matter in the prefrontal lobe stands a huge army of Spartan soldiers with their spears sticking upwards in the air. They are prepared to fight, prepared to conquer malaise, to combat for Truth. For the mind is a wondrously dangerous place, and white lies are in constant battle with black lies and dirty little secrets. With a tweak of a passage of signals, the entire perception alters somewhat drastically. It gives birth to a thought, an idea, and though in its embryonic form, it still has the capability of enveloping the entire physique, covering the subtle pores of the skin with its vulnerable coat like myelineated sheaths of axons. It hydrates the thirsty soul; it instigates a certain craving for – a little cocaine, maybe? Fervently spreading throughout the entire breathing creature, it begins to speak aloud in the creature’s own voice. But how weak the mind is! Yet it is capable of intelligent choice.

Secret Garden. (Photo courtesy of Twitter)

A long time has past since I last published my work on WordPress.

It is a superficially busy time for me because, after this semester, I have only two more to go. Then I shall finally graduate. It is critically important that I do well during these last few months because I plan to sit for masters. Not only that I am working towards developing my own organizational objectives with a music business unit. It is not easy to do this single-handedly, but I am fortunate to be able to work with other entrepreneurs as well.

It truly is one last stage for me to get by. I admit it is tough because I am now handling everything by myself, from tuition fees to organization structure to this little powerful drug – writing – that I do every now and then. I am consummated by exams and university projects and meeting new people. Every now and then I am hurled into Dreamland, where I am trapped in an extremely tall tower waiting for my knight in his white horse to come around and save me of course. At the very same moment, Time is graciously ticking away.

It definitely is fun to form mutual friendships with people and organizations, especially those who would be able to help out in the event that it is necessary. As part of entrepreneurship all that stress that comes along with it – hopefully it ends successfully. I want it to be a success of course! It meaning everything. Which encompasses education, my job, my friends, my family, my life – everything, god damn it. All these are the work of a lifetime. These are all my Paradise.

And when it comes, the butler shall open the huge oak doors. The Lady shall step out in her five-inch gold heels, and glide across the path to the Mercedes Benz waiting at the other end, her beautiful dark red hair brushing against the wind, and the satin ruffles of her long black dress sweeping lightly along. The chauffeur shall step out and open the car doors for her, and usher her in.

And then the Lady shall go on a journey deep into the unknown, but she shall not be worried, for she knows she is in safe hands.

Not every Tom, Dick, and Harry is capable of comprehending my writings; it takes one of considerable wisdom, I suppose.

Does Time wait for you, or do you wait for time, I wonder? (Photo credits to Ekamil Razali)

Yes, I am aware time is ticking by. The minute hands are sweeping away by the day, and at each forward move rocks of obstacles are hurled my way. Yet it is only the code by which this intangible thing called time works.

The effort spent – time itself, and energy as well – it shall not go to waste. When I wrote The Blitzkreig, I meant it. When I wrote all the other posts after that, I meant them too. Whilst I have been busy sharpening my swords of authenticity, I have been through nightmares too, where pots kept clanking and alarms kept ringing perpetuously. Probably I was faced with a paradigm shift, but no, not that I deny it, however it absolutely is not so! It has been like this until someone came over and shook me tlll he woke me from my bad dreams. Just saying.

Tragedy befell the poor, pretty mind, and it purged out a loud: “Oh!” Nonetheless, the neurons still decided to head on to the party instead together with the protons and the electrons. Together, they downed high doses of whisky, zapping all the way up and down through the cranium, and left with empty bottles lying on the dance floor.

And emerged as one from the doors more silent, solemn, and whatever else, with their minds readied for mental combat. The thing is that every time after something bad occurs, a bigger, brighter thing is churned out. At least, that is the general idea most people think happen.

The night is calling, and the fleecy clouds that adorn the stark sky are soon closing in over the round moon. Out in the marsh, I see a dark horse galloping steadily toward me. There on his leather saddle lies a little sack of maybe heroine. Should I climb him up, and ride with him, and ingest all the substance in that sack? Or should I not?

I need answers fast.

Dehydrated of – what? (Photo Credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

I feel like giving my baby (my site, really!) a complete makeover – sort of. I feel like emblazoning all over her critical reviews of movies, and drama, and whatever else that has to do with performance and the eclectic arts. There are two actions here involved – not only reviewing, but also writing on those reviews. I do not have any intentions of discontinuing other topics that are currently in progress. I feel like adding other subjects into the cocktail, things like feminity, and fashion, and dancing, and music, and dreaming, and the science of happiness and all things positive. If it were dancing, I definitely would write on hip-hop. Or any kind of dance. It does not really matter, does it?

It was dear old Socrates who had once upon a time mentioned that the unexamined life is not worth living. Life is a never-ending piece of examination, isn’t it. It is never static, for life is but a winding river gushing with water. It overflows into a whirlpool of information – and overpowered by the enormous strength of the currents one is swirled in together, consumed in all, for once, of its magnificient omnipotence.

Oh well. That is because I am doing it too. Question is, should I divert my attention to another site, or should I just remain here zapping my Bazooka thoughts, under the pseudonym Red Scarlet?

My brains have been dehydrated of words like a burning desert in dire need of water, the brown earth caked hard in the excruciating heat. It is extremely thirsty of whatever that quenches its – what? I feel like grabbing firm hold of a shovel, losing control like a crazy word-o-maniac, and continuously digging all the way down, and down, and down, until it reaches the intoxicated id. I feel like revealing its naked, provocative truths to the surface of the superego, out of the frontal lobe – where dreams meet reality.

Could you name me a certain film that does not have any love theme? Kind of hard, isn’t it?

Films and music videos and dramas – stage art, as a matter of fact – really have a sort of influence over the complex ideologies of love. It just crossed my choo-choo train of thoughts these very words from a song of a 90’s band The Corrs that goes along the lines of: “I will run away, I will run away with you.”

Oh, how sweet that would be. But it is a little too idealistic, is it not? Because love, no matter how gentle or how vulgar – love sells.

I told a playwright friend I will turn up with a post on the very same subject, with the very same title, If You Look At Love Hard Enough by Mat Atahari. And in the state of meshiness (pardon the pun) my mind is caught up in, I shall write this little prose, regardless of what you presume. Hopefully it will give a little insight into my understanding of the subject matter at hand.

Is love for real, or is it void? (Photograph courtesy of Alicia Ai Leng)

My mind has been loitering on a wandering trail for the past few months. Not that my lips cried, but my brains could not keep their silence. It was as if life edged by a rocking boat in turbulent waters, and all the soul could possibly do was sit and watch. And think, too. Perhaps. If it were possible.

In the joyous reunion of the family, I felt my essence sui generis slipping away, bit by bit, into the stark madness of reality. More and more I was drowning away in a plenitude of data, most nothing but cold hard facts, and facts, and facts. And then came the time where I was asked to ask myself: What am I doing? Where am I heading? Is this what I want to do? For the last question, of course, the answer is undoubtedly clear – yes, of course! But how? What? Why? Where would I lose myself to?

It is agonizing, considering the workload I am facing, and yet it is simply a part of the process. Which path was I walking? Whose path? What did I want, inherently, in the end? I was always in the have-to, but no-time situation. But I shall not deny that worklife has absorbed a great deal of me, so now I am hard at play retrieving it. It was as if I been prancing about in a drunken stupor, but nevertheless the questions kept on pressing endlessly.

Stop, stop, stop. Please! This echoed through my head. It had to, correct? It is probably my identity crisis as a psychopathic writer, where I let go of all responsibilities and allow myself to explore. And explore I have – I am still at it, to be frank. Anyway, it is safe to say that I have been hanging around the wrong loop, and therefore it necessitates me to make a reverse turn to continue the walk. Or the run, rather. I have been using much time. This year, however, my writing has brought me to another level, and I am required to prepare write-ups for website content. It is not exactly what I want – for I really, really do want to grab hold of a drama director by the wrist, and demand that he allow me to screen-write. JS (which stand for just saying). But my emotions speak for themselves. I have been waiting much too long.

Slowly, though. All the exploring and traveling has made me immensely sleepy. It is necessary that I listen closely to my heartbeat – no distractions! Ihrer haben ein solch guten tag. Und ich liebe dich.

They fight. Argue. Yell. Scream at you, even. On another note, they clamor for your attention because you are prone to letting them have something they know they cannot get elsewhere. At least they know you are kind enough to give them what they want. (Wink-wink, ha-ha). Period.

Photo Credits to Alicia Ai Leng

On a regular basis, however, there is nothing wiser than simply putting a stop, albeit temporary, to every single source of distraction and leave oneself to the luxury of being alone. Forget the rest of the world, everyone else included; and enjoy the air breath by breath. Keep away from human contact – if possible, go on a trip to some place and spend a little time in indulging in the self.

One of my favorite activities these days involve taking my hat down and tipping off at strangers I bump into British-style. I love how I am given the opportunity to act like a m************ tourist. Which I actually am. JS. It is kind of fun pretending to not know the local language and watch them struggle in my mother tongue. Ok, I admit I am being a little too evil.

Forgetting the world for awhile would not hurt. (Photo Credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

Well, this is just a part of life where you discover and rediscover yourself, constantly.

Expend on a journey to get to know yourself better. For the world must keep itself silent for a moment so you are able to examine your own thoughts. Plan out your life at your own will.

No, not quite. It is a source of energy that fuels our motives; but it certainly is not black and it is not slippery, and it is not pumped out from the rich earth below.

Do you realize how everyday I wake up to this realization, deciding that this is it, the very thing that keeps me going – because my life is not going to last, but my deeds will.

So will the rest of the people I know: Friends and family and whoever else I find dear to my heart. They are worthy of the smile you give them everyday, of the hearty laughter you share with them, and of the care you shower them with.

To accept the fact, however dreary it seems, with an ever tolerant spirit, brings the joy in me. Yes, life is not perfect; it is not a complete bed of roses. But knowing that it does not last settles me with the reason to treasure every moment of it.

Some past research which really got extremely serious in the end, into the matter itself, yielded in some pretty horrific results. It provided a lot of insight into Death and all that is associated with it. And that, gathered with all the hard facts and statistics revolving around that data, as well as the play of life events that take place before my very eyes, is more than enough to make me who I am presently.

The knowledge, or rather the awareness, that you and I will one day vanish into the ethereal, is what keeps us going. Just that sometimes we are too busy to notice.

One of my 2015 resolutions is to stop using my Facebook like my Twitter, and to use my Twitter like how I am using my Facebook now.

The feeling is hovering in me right exactly where I am writing. It is a surging feeling, almost as if I am high – though I am not. The year is drawing to a close, and 2015 is already waving eagerly at me.

I used to shun resolutions. I used to see and hear of my friends draw out their resolutions; and found them quite silly. I used to even feel like resolutions resembled imaginary barriers to my personal self-improvement. That, however, turned out to be the other way round, a thing of the past.

Setting a resolution is like setting a goal. Perhaps, it might sound like a child’s wishful thinking, but no, it is not. It takes an individual with a higher maturity level to actually freeze whatever that is being and has been done, and begin evaluating and solving some areas in life. Similarly, it is taking a step backwards and telling yourself, “Hey, this can be improved; I just have to do something about it.”

It could be anything you do, and even nothing at all. At times it is best to trash to the bin circumstances you cannot do much about, instead of hog at it all day. Just allow your own mindfulness and self-awareness to seep directly into the very pores of your light. Have the wisdom of taking different roads, and keep on track.

Making resolutions. (Photo credits to Alicia Ai Leng)

Imagine the inner peace that comes along when you have set your direction. You do not have to waste time making unnecessary turns. You would not have to end up banging your head on the wall, however accidentally – or even make merry-go-rounds to get to what you want and need. You go one straight line, simply because you know where you are headed. It may be a fast trip down the road, or an incredibly long journey towards the core of the earth, but it is going to minimize a lot of unwanted situations.

And the sense of fulfilment and satisfaction, the Eureka moment, is a wonderful by-product of alleviated emotions.

Do recall to include #StayHappy and #KeepPositive into your list, anyway.